Written in 2011 for baranduin:
I'd like some Elanor with Sam, after Rose's death but before Sam leaves.
(Takes place just a couple of days after Rose's funeral...)
Knowing
He seemed smaller than Elanor ever remembered his being, shrunken in upon himself, a weariness about him that sleep would not cure.
She'd followed him before the Sun had properly risen; seen him with the rose cuttings he'd taken. He was taking them to the top of the Hill, she knew, to plant by the newly made grave. It was fitting that her mother rest there. Sam looked up at Elanor when she approached him.
"They were her favourites." He patted the earth in place around the tender roots.
"You will not sleep beside her though," she said with certainty.